The Longest Time
by Dara Ware
Summary: When Harry Potter disappears after defeating Voldemort in his 7th year, Hermione is heartbroken. When strange things start happening 10 years later, will she remember her love? r/r please!
1. The Last Battle

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters created by JK. Rowling. They are all hers, and I am eternally grateful  
  
1 Prologue - The Last Battle  
  
It was nearing the end of the new war with Voldemort. The entire school had been locked inside the castle, and could see as the Dark Lord and his followers worked tirelessly to break down the protective wards that surrounded the castle. Every day more and more of the Dark Lords followers showed up, and the frightened students had to watch as Death Eaters destroyed the grounds of their school. Finally, a week after showing up outside the grounds of Hogwarts, there was a great sound, like lightning that echoed throughout the halls of the ancient castle. Dumbledore's voice magically echoed through the classrooms moments later. "All students fifth year and below shall leave class and go to their common rooms. All students 6th year and above shall meet in the entrance hall."  
  
Harry, Hermione and Ron left their charms class, with Professor Flitwick leading the way. "You don't think You-know-who has finally broken through, do you?" Ron asked anxiously. He was paler than usual, and his freckles stood out more on his face.  
  
"I think he may have." Harry replied, obviously as anxious as Ron. "I think that's why Dumbledore needs us. I think we're going to fight."  
  
At these words, Hermione looked up into Harry's eyes. They had started dating at the beginning of seventh year, after the summer where she thought she would lose him. She had not heard from him at all that summer, and upon seeing each other at Kings Cross on September 1st, all their bottled up feelings had come out. Tears began to well up in her eyes.  
  
"It isn't right." She sighed, "We haven't had a childhood, because we've always been fighting the Dark Lord. And now we have to battle with the others. It just isn't fair. I don't want the chance to lose you again, Harry."  
  
Harry looked back at Hermione, grabbed her hand, and a moment later, they were in the entrance hall.  
  
They gathered with the professors who were not looking after younger students and those involved in the Order of the Phoenix, witches and wizards from all walks of life that had volunteered to keep Hogwarts safe. And since the threat at the beginning of the year, their faces had been as common while walking down the halls as those of the professors.  
  
When they were all there, Dumbledore took a deep breath, and began, "Our job is to protect the school, the younger students and the building itself. This building is a symbol to many of our kind throughout Britain. If Hogwarts should fall, then many witches and wizards all over will give up hope. We cannot let this happen. All those who feel prepared to fight should do so. Those who feel that they cannot fight should help those that need help. But everyone here is fighting for Hogwarts and our way of life."  
  
Most who were there felt that the last statement had been aimed at the Slytherin students, who hadn't been too happy with Dumbledore since the return of Voldemort after the Triwizard Tournament, but one thing was able to change their mind. Draco Malfoy stepped forward and said, "I will be fighting for Hogwarts, and all its students." As he did this, the rest of the Slytherin 7th years murmured among themselves, and then began to step up behind him and intone their agreements. Hermione had suspected that Draco's sudden change of heart was because of an owl he received from his mum only days before. His father, the premier Death Eater, was dead at Voldemort's hand.  
  
Dumbledore nodded, and opened the great oak door that lead out to the grounds. It was raining a slowly and steadily. As they all stepped out, Harry squeezed Hermione's hand. He whispered in her ear, "No matter what happens, I'll always love you, and I'll always come back for you. Remember that."  
  
Hermione had looked up in his eyes, and gave him a quick kiss just before they stepped onto the great field in front of the castle.  
  
Voldemort was there with his Death Eaters, and other creatures that had joined the dark side. He yelled up to Dumbledore, "I see you have your students fighting for you. Pity that they must die also. Pity that your school will not be here this time tomorrow." With that, he laughed a cold, high laugh, and then yelled, "Death Eaters, attack!"  
  
His minions ran forward, and with that the battle began. Students, members of the order, professors, Death Eaters and dark creatures began throwing curses, hexes and all sorts of spells at each other. Wherever Hermione looked, she could see people falling. A few diligent students (mostly Hufflepuffs) stayed behind the front lines and tended to those students who had been hurt. Hermione threw every jinx and hex she knew at the group of Death Eaters rushing towards her, and along with all those fighting for Hogwarts, she was able to slow them down a bit. Using a second of time, she looked around for Harry, and saw him and Voldemort battling their way towards a hill a short ways away. She could no longer hear anything that was going on, only the deafening roar of battle.  
  
But suddenly, there was a blast of green light, and everyone turned to where both Voldemort and Harry had been standing. But there was no longer anyone standing over there. Hermione abandoned her fight and began to run. Every second that passed she heard herself say over and over again in her head, 'He can't be dead, he can't be dead.' After what seemed like years of running, she was the first to reach the hill, and the first to see the sight that was more horrible than anything she could ever have imagined.  
  
To her left was the body of Lord Voldemort, lying prone, eyes glassy, and most certainly dead.  
  
To her right, there was nothing. Harry Potter had vanished from the earth, leaving nothing but the prints of his shoes in the mud. 


	2. False Starts

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

****

Chapter One: False Starts

Hermione had spent the night after Harry disappeared awake and leaning out the window. Her dorm room was empty because Parvati had been hurt badly by a curse and was in the hospital wing, being actively nursed by Madame Pomfrey and Lavender was in the boys' dorm curled on Seamus' bed, crying her eyes out because he had died earlier that evening in her arms. 

Hermione on the other hand felt empty. She hadn't been badly injured, and her boyfriend hadn't died. He'd just disappeared. Ron and Professor Lupin had had to drag her away from the hill and forcibly stop her from kicking Voldemort's dead body. But Harry was nowhere in sight. He wouldn't have run off without anyone seeing him, and he couldn't have died because his body was nowhere to be seen. A tiny voice at the back of Hermione's brain kept saying, 'he's not coming back' but a bigger one that had teamed up with a voice from her heart kept screaming back 'he's just lost, we'll find him and then everything will be ok'. 

As the voices battled in her head, Hermione leaned on the windowsill and stared out at the hill next to the Quidditch pitch. Voldemort's body had been removed when the Aurors had arrived, but Hermione could almost see the green light that had hung over the spot. She stared off at the spot, unfocusing her eyes occasionally and staring beyond it, hoping that she would be able to see through the patch of earth and see where Harry had gone. Finally, after many hours of sitting motionless, Hermione could see a pale rose tint the horizon. She sat up straight, and stretched her body, which ached with the new movement. She grabbed her cloak, because the air outside had a bite to it, despite the fact that it was June. She hurried down the stairs, which lead to the common room and peeked around. 

The room was empty, and silent except for the occasional pop of a log on the fire, which had been left to burn down all night long. On tiptoes, she walked slowly to the portrait hole and crept out. The castle was empty, and quiet. Filch had long since gone to bed and was not going to be a problem. The journey to the front door felt oddly familiar with so many nighttime trips to visit Hagrid, amongst many other things. Harry and Hermione had even once left at a time like this, and crept out to watch the sun rise over the lake after a long night of talking. 

With that memory, Hermione's heart dropped again, but she kept moving. It took a few moments before she reached the hill and had climbed up it. When she reached the top, she wasn't sure what to do. Finally, she kneeled down and put her hand on the spot where she thought Harry must have stood. She looked closely, and she could even see the indents in the dirt of where his footprints had been. 

The sun was peeking over the horizon now, and the chill in the air was starting to dissolve with the morning dew. Hermione let her cloak drop off her shoulder, and she shivered as she felt the chill air around her. But it was good, and helped her to stay awake. Images of Harry kept flooding through her mind, and she started to cry as she heard his voice in her head calling to her. She pounded the ground, and then suddenly felt a deep watery coldness on her shoulder. She pulled up her cloak, and tugged it around her more tightly, and then stared down at the dirt again. Hermione continued to whisper 'why?' to herself, and again felt the watery coldness, this time on her cheek. From the feel, it almost seemed like someone had reached out and touched her cheek the way Harry had used to do. This thought made her even sadder, so she fell down on the ground and buried her face in her arms and began to cry. 

After a time, the tears stopped coming, and her breath slowed. A light breeze ran over her back and flattened her hair to her head. The gentle rhythm of the moving air soon lulled her into a sleepy state, and moments later, her eyes had closed, and Hermione Granger fell asleep for the first time in a long time.

***

Rain fell slowly on Harry's cheek. How long had he been lying there? Minutes…hours…days? He could feel his eyelids crack as he tried to open them, so he had been lying there for quite some time, but as he began to move his arms, the ground squelched beneath him. So perhaps it was mud that caked his face. His muscles ached as he began to push himself off the ground and into a sitting position. His entire body hurt and he fumbled about for his glasses which had somehow fallen off of his face. His eyes crunched with mud as he opened them to find a clean spot on his shirt to wipe his glasses. Without his specs, the world looked gray. 'That's because the world always looks gray when it's raining' he thought. But when he put his glasses back on, slightly relieved of the mud that had caked them, Harry was surprised to find that the world actually was gray. How was this possible? Worlds did not exist without color and still be visible. 

Confused, he stood up slowly, trying to figure out where he was. He was still on top of a hill, the last place he remembered being, when he had killed (or at least tried to kill) Voldemort, but there were neither flowers nor grass on the ground like he remembered. He turned around and was surprised yet again to find that in the spot where Hogwarts should have been lay a grove of ancient trees. And yet this was the same familiar landscape. The cliff some ways in the distance that hung over the lake. But the lake looked different too now. Instead of the lively bright blue green with the living movement of those that inhabited it, it was clear and still, a nearly perfect shade of blue gray. 

Harry took a step and looked around. This certainly was the way that Hogwarts grounds had seemed, but it was not, could not be where he was. No sun shone, so there was no bright light, but instead it was a dull cloud covered light that seemed to permeate everything and glow from the inside of all the living things that surrounded him. 

Harry began walking through tall grass in the direction of where Hogsmeade would be, if there were people here in this world. Harry stopped for a moment and realized that he must be in some other dimension. But nevertheless, if the terrain were the same, people would live in the same place where Hogsmeade was. The village was located at the perfect geographical location near the lake on a vast plain. And beyond the village was the rocky outcropping and dwarf of a mountain where he had visited Sirius so often with Ron and Hermione. He stopped again. Ron and Hermione…where were they? People didn't just disappear, or maybe he was the one who had disappeared. Harry hung his head and started to sob, thinking he'd lost them forever, but he quickly stopped, raised his head, took off his glasses, and rubbed the tears out of his eyes. Only as he rubbed them, he could see something bright white in the distance. He scrambled to put his glasses back on, and as he did, he could make out tiny white houses nestled in the rocks of the mountain. Yes, he'd go there and ask for help. 

Harry turned around to get one last look at the area where he had been standing, and he nearly fell down from the shock he received next. On the hill, kneeling on the ground was a white misty figure. It appeared to be of the same substance as the ghosts that had been so prevalent at Hogwarts, so Harry rushed over, eager to find a friend. But as he drew nearer, Harry became wary. This ghost had long bushy hair, and was wearing a Hogwarts cloak. He called out to the ghost, but she did not turn around or respond at all to his shouts, so as he drew near, he began to fear what might have happened. He walked around the ghost and looked into her face.

It was Hermione, and she had the saddest expression on her face. Harry reached out to touch her bare shoulder, but instead of warm flesh, he felt something similar to ice water. He pulled his hand back quickly, and then looked at her for a long time. She was kneeling on the ground, crying, and pounding the dirt. He had never seen her like this, and he wanted to hold her. Again, he reached out his had and put it on her cheek, and again felt icy coldness, and only a liquidy form, but nothing solid. Harry felt so bad, and yet she would not respond to any of his gestures, so he finally sat down and watched her. 

Time passed, and the ghost Hermione eventually lay down on the ground and fell into a troubled sleep. He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair like he'd done so many times before, but the thought of once again feeling the coldness that pierced his heart was enough to stop him. He sat for a long time watching her sleep, when suddenly her body was turned over. Her eyes were still closed, and she seemed to still be asleep, but the undeniable fact was that her body had turned over all by itself, and she hadn't moved a muscle. Harry stood up, and watched as Hermione's ghostly body was lifted in the air, and started to move back in the direction of the ancient tree grove, and then finally disappearing from view on the edge of the woods. 

Harry stood in amazement for a while. Had that been real? Had he seen Hermione's ghost, or was his imagination running away with him? Even in the magical community he had never experienced something like this, or heard tell of anything like it: people who appeared ghostlike, had cold liquid-like flesh, and who could not see or hear any of the people around them. It was stranger than anything he'd ever read about. The only people who might know what was going on would be in that village he saw. He had to go there and find out what was wrong with Hermione. Harry took one last glance at the forest of trees, and started on his journey. 

***

Hermione hadn't felt anyone move her from the hill where she had fallen asleep, but she woke up in her bed. She was covered with the downy comforters and sunlight streamed in from the window. She smiled for just a moment at the sunlight and the warmth of her bed, and then remembered where she had been when she fell asleep. She rolled over and drew back the hangings from her bed and reached for the clock, which stood on the table by her bed. It was nearly 3 in the afternoon. Hermione jumped out of bed and realized that she was in her nightgown, and that someone had changed her clothes. Her cloak hung on the edge of her trunk and the clothes she had worn the previous day and up until that morning were lying on top of that. Disregarding the clothes she threw them on the floor and reached into her trunk, groping for her dressing gown. She pulled it on and tied the sash as she walked down to the common room. She had to find Ron or Ginny or…

"Oh good, you're awake," a voice came from behind her. Hermione turned around to see Ginny nestled in one of the many red velvet covered chairs in the common room. She had a fabric-covered book and a quill in her hand, and she closed the book with a thud that echoed in the room. "We wondered if you would ever get up. Good thing you finally got some rest."

Hermione was startled. "Who was worrying about me, and why should you? And who moved me, and changed me? I don't appreciate not knowing where people take me," she said in one long breath. Ginny put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and motioned for her to sit down. 

"Now listen Herm, yesterday was hard for all of us, and especially for you." Ginny paused, taking a small breath, "You should have gotten some rest right away instead of what you probably did, which was stay up all night and then try to go looking for Harry," Ginny said in a gentle voice. She had been holding Hermione's hand and patting it gently, but Hermione did not like to be patronized. 

"And why shouldn't I look for him? He's got to be around here somewhere." She looked desperately at Ginny who returned the gaze sadly. This single glance was enough. Hermione began to cry again, this time, all her feelings came out at once. "I can't lose him Gin! I love him so much, and we had so much planned. He just can't be gone." After that she just mumbled into Ginny's hair. Ginny had stood up to hold Hermione, and was now stroking her back and making soft cooing noises, like those a mother makes to a fussy child. Slowly, Ginny moved back towards the sofa where she sat down and Hermione lay down, her head on Ginny's lap. Ginny stroked Hermione's hair and made more comforting noises as Hermione's crying slowly turned to hiccups and sniffles. Hermione finally regained her composure, and began to look around the room. Sitting on the end table was the book Ginny had put down.

"Ginny, what's that book you were writing in?" she said, slowly sitting up and pulling her hair back, out of her face.

"Oh, this," Ginny said nonchalantly. "It's my diary. I was writing down everything that happened yesterday. I figured that someone ought to record what happened for posterity's sake. And even though I know I'll never forget what happened yesterday, I know that in twenty years when my children want to know what happened, I won't remember the details, so that's where this comes in," she said pulling the book into her lap. She fingered the embroidery on the front lovingly, and said, "You know, I've always had this need to write things down. You remember my diary in my first year? Well, even though it had Tom," and with the mention of this name, she blushed, " in it to talk to, it wasn't the fact that I could talk to him that made me feel better, it was just putting words down so that I could see them. It always made me feel so much better letting all the emotions out. You should try it sometime Hermione, and especially because of what's just happened." She looked over at Hermione and smiled. "You want to read what I wrote, don't you?"

Hermione was astonished. She had indeed been thinking that, but she never would have admitted it if Ginny hadn't guessed. She nodded her head, and surprisingly, Ginny handed her the diary. 

"Don't worry, there isn't a whole lot of personal stuff in there, it's mostly writing what I've seen and observed around the school." Ginny shoved it at Hermione again. "Read it now, or I won't give you another chance. Besides, I want your opinion on what I wrote, I'm not sure I got the feeling of the air yesterday."

Hermione reluctantly took the book from Ginny's hands, and flipped to the back. There were many pages that appeared to be simply daily events, but closer to the end was a paragraph marked with a star. Hermione glanced up at Ginny one last time and began to read. The beginning was a little awkward, but it transitioned nicely into a piece that really captured the fear and anxious activity of the previous day. When Hermione was finished she shut the book, and gave Ginny a hug. 

"That was really good. You should send it somewhere to get published, because there are so many people who ought to see it like that. You give the feeling of being scared, but not making it scary," Hermione said earnestly. She was handing back the book when the portrait hole opened, and Ron walked in.

"Ah, so the sleeping beauty has awaken. I should think that 10 hours would be enough." Ron sat down on the couch. "How are you? I feel lucky that I happened to be up at 6 this morning and looking out the window. You could have gotten sick out there, it's ruddy cold." 

"Normally, Ron, I would be furious that you came and moved me and then took me to my room and undressed me…" Hermione began, but was cut off as Ron began to make objecting noises.

Ginny spoke up, "Actually, I was the one that put you in your nightgown. Don't worry, He didn't see you. Or he better not have. I told him to stand outside while I changed you." She said, giving Ron a glare. Ron shrugged his shoulders as if to say he in deed did not see anything. Ginny looked back at Hermione.

"As I was saying, it's my own business where I am at 6 in the morning and I don't need you following me around Ron Weasley." Hermione said, trying to sound indignant and failing utterly.

"Fine, I'm sorry I moved you. Actually I'm not. Hermione, you have to deal with this it's just not…" This time it was Ginny who cut him off, but with a glare. "Ok, we won't talk about this now. Listen, if you get dressed, there's some food downstairs, and McGonagall wants to talk to us all. You're up to that, right?" Hermione nodded. "Great," Ron said, jumping up, "I'll see you both down there soon." And with that, he left the two girls on the sofa. 

Hermione smoothed her dressing gown and then stood up. "I really should get dressed. I can't believe that it's 3 in the afternoon."

"Actually," Ginny said looking down at her watch, "It's 3:30, but there's no need to be technical, right?" she said with a smirk.

Hermione gave her a look and then walked back up to the dormitory. This was going to be a long day.

***

Harry sat down on a boulder in a clearing. It was hard work making his way to the white village, but he was nearly there now. Back in his old world, the trip down to Hogsmeade had been a fairly long straight path. But that way was blocked now by a thick forest that seemed excessively wild, and not traversal at all. So Harry had taken the other route to where the village was, the long path that led around the Forbidden Forest that probably hadn't been used in many years. And no wonder, because the path was rocky and steep with few places suitable for stopping to take a rest. But it wouldn't be much longer now. The village was about 2 kilometers away, but it was all uphill from here, and the light had begun to dim.

Harry stood up and shook himself to wake up. He was so close, and he couldn't rest until he had some sort of shelter. And at the top of this slope was rest, so he trudged on. Occasional trees made for something to grasp as he pulled himself up the steep hill. This was harder than any workout he had been put through before, and he was sweating through his shirt. 

After much trouble, he finally reached the top and found himself in the back garden of a house that seemed empty. Draperies hung out the windows, but no wind ruffled them, and the house gave off a vague empty feeling. Harry went to the window, and peeked in, but his suspicions were confirmed. The house was severely empty, and he would have to find somewhere else to rest. Walking around the front, he saw several other houses along a road, and he followed the road to what seemed like the center of town. Even if the homes on the outskirts were abandoned, if anybody lived in the village, then they would be here somewhere. 

***

The evening sun was just beginning to set as Hermione looked towards the horizon. The light was fading fast, and very soon, they would have to give up looking for Harry for the night. Hermione sighed, pulled a hanky out of a pocket and wiped her nose. This was the hardest thing she had ever done, and she couldn't cry throughout any of it. 

Leaves crunched behind her, and Hermione turned around to see Ron's tall figure walking towards her. His head was lowered, and he too was sniffing his nose. She handed him her hanky and sighed again. "I guess we'll have to give up for the night and just wait for tomorrow," she said to the sun and then turned back towards Ron, "bright and early, right?" Ron handed back the hanky and then took a deep breath. The look on his face was not something Hermione could easily stand, it was both pained and sad. Hermione took another step towards him and took the hanky, but he held on to it also, so that they seemed to be in a tug of war. Ron stared down at the ground and shuffled his feet a little bit. Hermione looked at him again in disbelief and finally lowered her head so she could look in his eyes. "Right?" she said again.

Ron shook his head, and reached out to hold her. Tears came quickly, and she shook in Ron's arms. He patted her head, and said, "Dumbledore doesn't think we can find him. Nobody can just disappear like that. He didn't survive." He began to stroke her hair and whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Hermione stopped crying abruptly. He couldn't be gone. She knew it in her heart, and she could almost feel his presence somewhere nearby. She pushed herself out of Ron's arms and looked him in the eyes. "No." He gave her a look of disbelief, but she continued. "I know he's out here somewhere, and I'm not giving up until I've found him. I have done much harder things, and I will find Harry. I'm not giving up."

She began to walk away, but Ron had cleared his throat. She turned around quickly and saw him getting nervous again. This wasn't like him at all, and the only thing she could think that caused it was the battle and Harry's disappearance. She gave him a look and he finally spoke up. "I know that you were accepted to Merlin Hall in Oxford, and I don't think that you should give it up. You know how few witches and wizards that they accept right out of school, and well," with this he took a deep breath, "I think you should go."

Hermione looked at him sadly. As she walked back towards him, she was able to say, "You know I can't go. Not with Harry gone. Please Ron, you of all people should understand." With her last words, she had reached him, and took his hand in her own. "I'd be too torn up. I can't do it, not now."

He looked at her again, and said, "You know, I thought it all over this morning. Fred and George want me to work in Diagon Alley with them and get Weasley's Wizard Wheezes up and running. I thought that maybe we could get a flat together somewhere in Oxford, and until I've got my apparition license, I could just take in the early train. What do you say? It'd work out perfectly, I know it would. And you wouldn't have to be alone. You'd be at school during the time I'd be at work, and then when I get home at night, you can cry on my shoulder as much as you like, and it wouldn't matter how late it was." At this, Hermione laughed a little. "Please say yes Hermione, I think it would be best for the both of us to have someone there to make sure we're ok."

Hermione threw her arms around him. "You're so good to me Ron, the best friend a girl could have."

"I'll take that as a yes unless you're just playing with me Hermione," Ron said, pulling away for a moment and looking her in the eyes. 

She looked at him in the dying sunlight and saw something sparkle deep in his eyes. Her smile faded slightly at the sight of his desperation. "Yes Ron, I'll go to Merlin Hall, and we can get a flat together."

He smiled again broadly, and grabbed her arm, and they walked back to the castle together in the last haze of light left behind by the set sun. 

***

Harry finally found one house that seemed to have life within it. Although there was very little sound coming from it, an occasional shadow would pass the curtain, and the drapes would move slightly. Feeling somewhat uncomfortable about barging in to someone else's home and asking for shelter, Harry began to straighten himself up. He dusted off his trousers, trying to get rid of a few dirt clods that stuck to them, and he looked down in to a puddle of water to adjust his hair. He began to spit into his hands to smooth it out, but soon began to think of Hermione. She had had such trouble trying to straighten him out for the Yule ball that year, and she had even tried using a potion that was labeled as 'guaranteed to make your hair lie flat, or your money back'. It had done nothing for his hair, which continued to stick out in all directions, but he left it that way, and smiled sadly as he thought of Hermione. This was going to be very hard.

Tugging once more at his shirt, he stepped on to the front porch, and hesitating a moment, knocked three times. Harry took a nervous breath and looked behind him. The other houses in the area were dead still, so this was his only hope. 

As he heard the door creak open, his head whipped around. And when he saw who was standing in the doorway, his mouth dropped.

The Chapter is now finished

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	3. Another Perfect Day

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the things associated with it. JKR does, and so does her publisher.

The Longest Time

Chapter Two – Another Perfect Day

__

So I might try to leave it all behind  
I know tomorrow's not so bright now  
I'll say goodbye cause nothing good can last  
(you wear and figured no where fast)  
and today I don't know how too keep it all inside  
but I guess I'll let it slide   


I still believe it when you say  
it's another perfect day  
another perfect day

_-American Hi-Fi "Another Perfect Day"_

The Leaving Feast was an even more somber event than it had been in the past few years. The Great Hallwas again clad in somber black draperies as it had been for the past few years to honor the students and alumnae who had given their lives in the war against Voldemort. This year'sfeast was especially sad, as more students than ever had died or been wounded in the last battle. The seats of the student casualties were empty, but at each of their places on the table was a black hat. The Gryffindor table had more empty places than most and many students were trying to catch a glimpse of Hermione. 

She was seated at her usual spot towards the middle of the table with Ron on her left and Ginny across from her. Ron had his hand on her shoulder as she tried to look brave. To her right was a black hat in the seat where Harry had normally sat.

When the students finally stopped filing in, Dumbledore tapped his goblet and the Hall was silent. 

"Students, teachers, friends. We are gathered again to say goodbye to another year. Even though the war has ended, we have suffered much, and have not yet begun to heal." He took a breath and started again. "The reason that this war happened is because there are people in the world who do not wish to see the goodness in others. Each of us here, pureblood or Muggle-born,has qualities that make us unique and special.To make sure that something like this tragedy never happens again, I ask you to start to learn about each other now." Dumbledore stepped away from the high table and began to walk towards the house tables. The faces of everyone in the hall bore the same expression of shock and amazement. "I want each of you to sit at another table and talk to people who you don't know or that you may not like. People who know each other and are friends have a harder time trying to kill each other during a war. When you've found your seats, we will begin the feast." And with this, Dumbledore took a place at the Hufflepuff table and patted a scared-looking student good-naturedly on the back.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then the sounds of benches scraping on the floor echoed all the way up to the magical ceiling. 

As they stood up to move, Ron looked at Hermione. "Do you want me to sit with you?" he said, with a look asking whether she needed him. 

Hermione waved him off. "No, you go on. I know you're dying to take Dumbledore's chair," with this they both had to laugh, "And I'm sure that Ginny will sit with me. Right?" Hermione looked over at Ginny who was still waiting across the table. 

Ginny smiled a little bit, "It's just what I had in mind." Ron gave Hermione's hand a quick squeeze and then he ran up to the professors' table, where he took Dumbledore's chair and started to chat with Professor Flitwick. When Hermione reached the other side of the table, Ginny grabbed her arm and started to drag her across the room. "I know just where we should sit," she said as she pulled Hermione over towards the Slytherin table. There sat Draco Malfoy, alone, and looking quite ashamed of himself. He looked up at the girls and gave a curt nod, and they sat down. 

After another moment of noise, everyone was finally seated at the mixed tables. Dumbledore's voice could be heard from the middle of the room to say, "Let the feast begin," and dozens of dishes appeared at every table with the usual savory foods. Hermione took one of the dishes and started to spoon potatoeson to her plate, and looked up, expecting Ginny or Draco to start a conversation. They had both already taken their food and were staring down at their plates, seemingly ignoring each other. Hermione took another dish and this time, while serving herself, banged the serving spoons on her plate. Both Ginny and Draco gave Hermione funny looks that she returned, imploring them to say something. In response to their questioning stares, Hermione shook her head, mumbled "Er…it slipped" and went back to eating her food. Questions continued to race through her mind. Obviously, Ginny had wanted to sit near Draco, but why was she suddenly clamming up? Though Ginny was never that quiet in the Gryffindor common room, Draco had always been demeaning to her family and quite nasty to her and Ron in particular. But now the silence was finally getting to her. While still looking down at her food, Hermione said, "So, Draco, what are your plans for after Hogwarts?"

The bang from across the table was sharpened by the disgusted sigh that followed it. Hermione looked up to find Draco glaring at her. "As much as you'd like for us all to be happy little friends after I did something noble and good won over evil, the fact still remains that my father is dead and you're still moping over your dead boyfriend. As long as that's happened, I don't think that we can ever be closer than Nogtails and albino bloodhounds." He then looked over at Ginny for a moment, as if to size her up. "You, on the other hand, didn't lose anyone yesterday, so I can't sympathize with you at all, and if I can't sympathize with you, you don't interest me. Besides, I'm not in the mood to play 'What do you want to be when you grow up?'" With this, he pulled a magazine out of his bag and began to read.

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, dumbfounded. After a few moments, Hermione finally cleared her throat loudly. The magazine did not move, so she finally pulled it down and snatched it away from him. "You are being very rude, but that's typical. Yes, we had thought that since you did something relatively nice yesterday that you might turn out to be a good person-" She was cut off before she could continue.

"Well, well, well. Hermione Granger, the top of our class, Little Miss PerfectHead Girl, was wrong. Get used to disappointment." Draco's smug grin was quickly wiped away as Hermione swatted him across the head with his own magazine.

"I was saying that we thought that you might turn out to be a vaguely nice person, but I guess we were wrong. You're never going to make friends with an attitude like that." Hermione stood up and was about to walk away when Ginny grabbed the sleeves of her robe. She pulled Hermione down so she could whisper something in her ear.

"Listen," she said hoarsely in the lowest voice she could manage, "I think that he's just trying to be alone. But I also think that he's hurting. Did you hear the way he talked about his father dying? That's just not healthy, even for a Malfoy. Let's give him another chance, please?"

Draco snorted, "I don't need your sympathy, Weasley. You're nearly as bad as your brothers, always trying to label things so that you can tidily ignore the bad parts. Well, I'm not sorry that I'm acting this way. I don't particularly care a great deal for either of you, and I think that this evening would be better for all of us if you just left me alone." He sneered once more in their direction and then grabbed his magazine back and went to another end of the table. He buried himself in his reading material, and didn't move, not even to eat. Hermione and Ginny didn't say anything for the next few minutes as they ate, and finally, Hermione stood up and began to gather her things to go. When she had everything, she looked down at Ginny. 

Ginny was staring down the table at Malfoy, who still had not moved. After a moment, her pleading eyes looked up at Hermione. Hermione sighed. "Fine, you can go talk to him if you want, but I'm not coming. I still think he's horrible, and if you want to try and find the good in him, I wish you luck, but it's going to be a long search."

Ginny stood up, hugged Hermione and ran down to the other end, where she began to argue with Draco over something that Hermione couldn't hear. Hermione was passing the head table, when Ron noticed her leaving. He excused himself from his conversation with Professor Flitwick, and called to Hermione. "Where are you going? The feast isn't nearly over yet." He was making his way along the back of the long table, but was having trouble maneuvering the chairs and people who also sat up front. 

"You know Ron, I'm just tired. I didn't get much of a chance to pack, so I think I'm going to go to my room and finish up there." She was just getting to the entrance hall, when she heard a door slam and heavy footsteps on the slate floor. She looked to her right, and there was Ron, panting and out of breath. He ran towards her, and then stopped, hands on his knees, and wheezing. Hermione couldn't help but laugh, because his face was as red as his hair from the lack of oxygen. "Are you all right?" she said, restraining a laugh.

"I'm…fine…I'm fine," he said, standing up. "Just ran through a bunch of halls to get out here. Never knew there were so many rooms behind the Great Hall." Hermione smiled at him again. "But the reason I'm out here, I was wondering if I might help you pack?" Hermione thought about it, but this must have appeared as a frown to Ron, because he immediately added, "Or…I could just walk you to your room?" 

"I'd like that." She smiled, and slipped her arm through his, and together, they set off towards Gryffindor Tower. 

***

Harry opened his eyes slowly and knew immediately that he was in a room in which he'd never been. This waking up in strange places was getting to be too much, and the next time he fell asleep, he wanted it to be in a location he'd at least seen beforehand. He tried to lift his head, but as he raised his neck, a throbbing pain blurred his vision. His head fell down with a thunk on a thin mattress, and he groaned aloud.

Harry heard hurried footsteps outside the door, and an older woman's voice saying "I'm coming, don't move a muscle." The door was pushed open by the large rear end of a tiny old woman who reminded Harry very much of Dumbledore. The woman turned around and Harry was greeted with a kind smile and a small pudgy face, as well as hands carrying cool damp rags and a bowl of soup. Her skin was quite fair, but high in her cheeks there was a pale color that was the first that Harry had seen since coming to this new world. The pink was so light, and yet, Harry began to miss the colors of the world around him. "Here, let me help you up. You took a nasty fall earlier." She smiled and put down her provisions, and used strong wrinkled hands to support his head and back as he sat up.

"Thanks…um…I don't know who you are. I don't know where I am, and I don't know why I'm here." Harry seemed to blurt out all of this at once, and the old woman ignored him. She pushed the bowl of soup towards him, and motioned for him to begin drinking it. In the same motion, she picked up the rags and started to wipe off Harry's forehead. The rags were a great relief to his aching head and the old woman seemed to be able to wipe away the pain as she cleaned the sweat from his brow. Every once in a while as he ate his soup, he would look up, waiting for her to say something, but her eyes would grow wide, as if to ask him why he had stopped eating. He drank soup more quickly and, when the bowl was drained, he dropped the spoon with a clatter and put the dish on the floor. "Right, I'm Harry Potter, and I have a few questions for you."

The old woman smiled and put down her rags. "I knew who you were. Seamus told me after you fainted. That was a fairly nasty fall you took. My name is Celia, and I am the keeper of the Damesgoh house of Linwrael. Everyone in this area who comes to Linwrael must first pass through my home, and my job is to help them find themselves." She put her hand on her chin and began to study Harry. "You on the other hand do not look like any of the lost ones, or like a Keeper, you're much too young to be a Keeper, and you still have all of yourself, so you can't be lost." 

Harry sat, eyes wide, confused. Lost? A Keeper? Still have all of himself? This woman was stranger than anyone he had ever met, and, even though he was slowly learning about this strange world, it seemed to grow more and more confusing as she brought up these things of which he had never heard. "Excuse me, Miss Celia, but I don't seem to understand you. You see, yesterday, or at least I think it was yesterday, I fought a battle with an evil wizard. I killed him, but I must have been knocked unconscious, and when I woke up, I was here. What is this place, Linwrael, what is it exactly? And what's Seamus doing here? The last I saw him was before the battle." He bit his lip as he looked at her. Her hand was still on her chin, but she finally sighed, and started to stand up. 

"I think you're finally ready to hear everything. Come with me, and I'll introduce you around." She reached out her hand to take his, and even though she had been so vague and had explained so little, Harry took her hand and they left the room together. The room that they entered was quite bare, except for a few sparse pieces of furniture covered in sheets. On a gray-sheeted sofa sat Seamus Finnigan, but not the Seamus that Harry remembered. Upon seeing Harry and Celia enter, Seamus stood up and walked over. Smiling broadly, his colorless skin seemed to glow in the soft white candlelight that lit the room. Seamus embraced Harry tightly, and, although he felt slightly uncomfortable, Harry said nothing. When Seamus finally pulled back, Harry gave him a strange look, and then turned to Celia, but she was already leaving through another door into what looked like a small kitchen.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Seamus returned to the couch and continued to question Harry with his eyes.

"I…well…how did you get here? The battle, and what happened?" Harry sputtered and looked for a chair. 

"Well, I couldn't leave Lavender alone, could I? And, well, after what happened, I ended up here. But I can still feel her, and I hope she can feel me."

Harry was now more than slightly frightened. "Seamus, what do you mean, 'after what happened?'" 

Harry's panicked green eyes were met by a sad stare from Seamus. "Harry, I died out there, and now I'm here. And since you're here, my best guess is you're dead too." Harry had been just about to sit down when Seamus said this, but he missed the chair and ended up on the floor. Seamus stood to give him a hand and Harry accepted it, standing up. He rubbed his bum, which was in quite a lot of pain after hitting the hard wooden floor. "So you didn't know? I thought that's what she told you while you were sitting in there." Seamus frowned and went back to the sofa.

Celia had just re-entered the room and she found Harry now sitting in the chair, completely shocked, quiet, mouth hanging open. She walked over and handed him a cup of steaming liquid, which, at first glance, appeared to be tea. Harry took a sip, and nearly spat it out. The drink she had just handed him tasted like pond water. "Why didn't you tell me that this is where dead people come? I would have been a lot less shocked seeing Seamus for the second time, and I wouldn't have been so surprised."

Celia sighed and pushed the teacup back to him, urging him silently to drink. She said, "I thought you knew. But perhaps your shock at seeing Seamus here should have been my first clue." She paused and looked at Harry, who had not yet taken another sip from the cup. "Go on, drink it. I didn't poison it, and though it may taste like I did, it's the only thing here that will sustain the two of us." Reluctantly he sipped, and soon he began to feel warmer than he had felt all day. "I don't know how you came here, but usually when live people come, it's because they are meant to, and they come knowing everything about Linwrael, having learnt it from their parents or grandparents."

Harry interrupted. "How did you know that I wasn't dead?" he felt himself tremble as he said this, secretly scared that he was in fact dead.

Celia smiled. "I almost didn't at first. You were so pale, I thought you might be dead. But it was your eyes. This world has very little color except for the living, but once you opened your eyes, there was no question. There isn't anything that color here." She looked wistful for a moment, and then continued. "I am a gatekeeper to the world of the not-quite dead. Those who have some sort of unfinished business come here to finish what they must. They have left behind some part of their soul, and cannot pass on completely without it. Here, they are able to look in on those they left when they died and finish whatever their dying wish was in order to find that piece of their soul. My job is to acclimate the new arrivals and to help them learn how to take care of what they need to do. Seamus, for example, wants to make sure that his girlfriend Lavender is happy before he passes on fully. So from time to time, he will be able to visit and make sure that she is improving. She won't be able to see him, but he will be able to see her and maybe to influence her life a little." 

Celia slowed for a moment and sipped at her tea. Harry seized the opportunity to talk and leaned in. "But what happens if Lavender never gets to be happy again? Does that mean Seamus will stay here forever? What about ghosts? I've heard about ghosts being spirits with unfinished business, so are the Hogwarts ghosts here?"

Looking up from her teacup, Celia glanced towards Seamus and said, "You're probably right, he'll be here for a very long time, but that has happened before. The Hogwarts ghosts are indeed people who died and stayed here in Linwrael for a period of time, but they were not able to complete their tasks for those who their dying wish involved. When the ones left behind in the living world pass on completely, they take the piece of the dead person's soul with them. When that happens, they become fixed in the world of the living, and are seen by the people there as ghosts. Since the people that they loved have passed on by that point, nobody from the living world remembers them as they were when they were living. It's very sad."

Harry began to sip his drink again and started to wonder how he had ended up in this very strange world.

***

Hermione picked up a bunch of flowers, smelled them, and then reached into her pocketbook to pay the vendor. Pulling out her list, she aimlessly wandered towards Mim's Grocer. The covered market was usually crowded on Saturday afternoons, but Hermione had grown used to that. As she entered the shop, she waved to Arthur, the stockboy, and subtly pulled out her wand and headed towards a row of shelves in the back. Tapping a few ancient cans of vegetables, a small wooden door appeared. Hermione ducked through and re-emerged on the other side in the Wizarding section of Oxford's covered market.

It was comprised of only an apothecary, a small café, an odds and ends shop, an owl post office, and a few small shops selling spellbooks and used robes. The selection and quality was nowhere near that of Diagon Alley, but Hermione enjoyed doing her few errands here because of the privacy. Too often that she would be minding her own business in London when one of her old school friends would appear and treat her like someone had died. No, this was much nicer. She walked into the apothecary and pulled out a list of the few potions ingredients that she and Ron had run out of.

Since they had moved into their shared flat, they had both been very busy. Ron often had a set of experimental mixtures going for Fred and George. Hermione had just begun her second fall term and was taking a course on magi-molecular structures of potions ingredients. She had been fascinated to discover what the parts of the ingredients were in the potions that made them go and made them work, so she generally had her own cauldron going whenever she had a chance between classes to do her own private research. She and Ron were rarely there at the same time during the day, and only had time together in the evenings, but both led such stressful lives that many evenings were spent in their teensy living room reading for work or school and watching Crookshanks play with whatever toy Hermione had most recently bought for him. 

After selecting the necessary potions ingredients, Hermione moved into the used spellbook store. The wizard who ran it was ancient, but very knowledgeable, and he and Hermione had become fast friends.

"Hullo, Edgar. Anything new?" she asked before wandering off to look at the rest of the store. 

"Yep," he said, "But it's a whole load of Lockhart books and people don't want that sort of nonsense anymore. You wouldn't want any, would you?" Hermione thanked her lucky stars that she was standing in the back of the store as she flushed slightly at the thought of her schoolgirl crush on the former Hogwarts professor. When her face wasn't so hot, she peeked around a shelf and shook her head. "Had to buy it all back in my second year at Hogwarts. I think I'm just looking today, Edgar, and taking in the old book smell."

Edgar laughed deeply and said, "S'all right. I should charge you for smelling the books, but it wouldn't seem right. Anyway, I don't rightly understand why anyone would need to smell old books so many times a week." Hermione pulled out an old spellbook from the top shelf, blew off the dust, and then leafed through it before putting it back. She went up to the cash registerand pecked Edgar on the cheek before she left. "It's not just the old book smell I come for, Edgar. See you later." 

Hermione took her time as she walked back down St. Aldates to her flat. It was still quite early in the evening and the light had barely faded. A young girl with red hair got onto the X3 and made Hermione think of Ginny, and how much she had missed having a girl friend around.

Just a few short months after Voldemort's defeat at Hogwarts, the Daily Prophet decided to get a more human perspective of how people had felt about what had happened. A small box had appeared in the Prophet one day asking for people to write short pieces about how they found out about what had happened that fateful day. Ginny's piece had been chosen as a representative of the students' point of view. So many people had written in and said what a beautiful and moving piece it was that the Daily Prophet offered her a job when she graduated from school. 

Her assignment was fairly simple. She was to travel around to wizarding areas and get different perspectives on how things had changed. Ginny had spent the previous year in the Americas getting that perspective.She had stayed athostels with magic-friendly suites and would spend a week or two in each area trying to get as many points of view as possible, which was sometimes difficult. Ginny was still very youthful, and there would be many people who would scoff when she mentioned that it would appear in a major European wizarding newspaper. But those who were kind enough to grant interviews would all get the distinct pleasure of receiving copies of the newspaper for free, because Ginny knew how exciting it was for so many people to see their names in print. 

Hermione would receive owl postcards every week or so, and Ginny would tell her all about what was happening, though it had been nearly two weeks since last she and Ron had heard from her. She had sent a letter from Chile saying that she was ready to be back in Europe, and that she was heading for Spain. So now all Hermione could do was wait for the next postcard.

Slowly, her flat came into view. It wasn't really a flat, but an apartment over a law office. The building was curiously constructed and the flat had its own set of stairs at the back, which Hermione was sure their landlord appreciated, because his practice was a respectable one, and having people traipsing about was not the sort of thing he would allow. 

Hermione passed the rest of the afternoon studying, and occasionally her mind wandered and something made her think of Harry. It had been more than a year and no one had heard anything or found anything out that might lead them to where he was. Thinking of him and missing him was difficult, so Hermione had put it completely out of her mind. But days like these were hard, because she would feel so happy and want to share all the happenings of her day with Harry, but he wouldn't be there. 

Hermione's reminiscing soon came to an end as Ron slammed the door and stormed into the room. The book fell out of Hermione's lap, and she jumped as he threw his bag across the floor. "Ron, really, we just tidied up the other night, and whatever it is can't be that bad." 

Ron fell in to the other chair and sighed. "Except it is." He shook his head again and kicked the air. "I don't know how Fred and George expect me to do everything. They keep saying that I'm the business part and that they're the invention part and that business and invention don't mix. But I don't have any business experience and they refuse to help me, so it's all going to hell, and I'm going with it. I just wish that they could hire somebody else, but until we get out the new line of products, we don't have enough money to pay anyone." He gave Hermione a pitiful look and stood up. Hermione stood up too and held out her arms.

The two stood there embracing for a while. Finally, Ron pulled away, looked Hermione in the eye and said, "You're so good to me. I don't deserve to have a friend like you." He paused a moment longer, and before she could do anything else, Ron was kissing her. Not a friendly kiss on the cheek, nor a passionate snog, but a soft full kiss on the mouth. After a few seconds, Ron pulled away and said, "Thanks for being here for me." With that, he left the room, and Hermione fell to her chair, lips still tingling with shock.

***

Authors Notes: Thank you to Ivy for being a super beta, Gina for not being an English major, but still being anal about grammar, Megan for saying it was good and the people who read the dialogue bit at the workshoppe and said it drew them in.

Have questions? Want to be on the update list? Email me at: darastar23@hotmail.com


	4. Awakenings

Chapter 3

Awakenings

Something has to make you run  
I don't know why I didn't come  
I feel as empty as a drum  
I don't know why I didn't come  
I don't know why I didn't come  
I don't know why I didn't come

-Norah Jones, 'Don't Know Why'

It was early evening and Hermione was bringing in the dishes from her dinner, washing everything magically. The magical washing methods were one of the many things that Hermione felt made being a witch worth it, as it had been her least favorite chore as a child. And with the time she saved she could stand lazily in the kitchen and drink an early evening cup of tea. This evening though, Athena, her owl, popped in the owl-window above the stove, bringing the day's mail and newspapers. There was Ron's subscription to Quidditch Digest, an ad for Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Cleanser; the day's Daily Prophet, and a postcard. When Hermione got to the postcard, and saw the handwriting on the back, she called out to Ron, who quickly came running. "Postcard. It's from Ginny." She said, handing it to him. On the front was a picture of the Plaza de España in Madrid. The greenery was lush and inviting, the sky a perfect Mediterranean blue, and around the plaza walked tiny enchanted people who would disappear in the shadows before reappearing at the base of the monument to read its inscription. Hermione waited a moment as she watched Ron look at the picture, and then poked him. "Are you going to read it aloud, or do I have to take it back?"

"You mean you didn't read it?" he asked, a shocked expression on his face.

"No, of course not. She's your sister, so I thought that you should get to read it first," she reached out her hand to take the postcard. "But obviously you're not in the mood to share, so I'll just read it on my own." Ron laughed at her a little as she stood there, intent on having the postcard, hand out, a stern expression on her face. 

"Fine, I'll read it, but next time, you can read it first. She's kind of like your sister too." Ron flushed slightly at the implications, but continued. "I mean, you spend so much time together, and you seem like such good friends, it's like you're sisters. Only you don't have the red hair." 

"I guess I could never be a Weasley then." Ron's face fell slightly after an unusually offhanded remark from Hermione, but he tried to perk up again without her noticing. 

"Right, well, why don't you read it. You've got a nicer reading voice." He handed her the postcard, and walked over to the sitting area where he flopped down on a chair and grabbed Crookshanks, stroking (petting) him as Hermione smiled at him and read:

__

"Greetings from Barcelona! I'm so glad to be back in Europe, and as you can see, my last article was in the Daily Prophet. I really enjoyed South America, and had a very nice stopover in Spain, but it will be so nice to see you all again. I'm on my way to France, and will probably be in Paris for a few weeks. You both really should come down and visit for a long weekend while I'm here. Let me know, I'll be staying at the Three Ducks. Love you both, G." 

Hermione handed the postcard over to Ron and sat down on her chair. "Well, she sounds happy, doesn't she?" 

Ron sat for a moment, rereading the card and then another moment looking at Hermione and laughing to himself. "Yes, of course she does." He stood up and walked to his room, saying over his shoulder, " I've got some work to do, so I'll be in my room most of the night if you need me." Hermione watched him walk out with too much bravado for a boy who had merely listened to a postcard read out loud. 

It was nearly a month after Ron had kissed Hermione, and she had very nearly avoided seeing him at all during those first few days. What had he been thinking? Hermione had decided that it was just a spur of the moment sort of thing, but recently he had started looking at her longer when he thought she didn't know. She didn't like it. They were friends, sharing a flat, and she was still Harry's girlfriend. And then it hit Hermione. She still thought of herself as somebody's girlfriend, and yet her 'boyfriend' had been MIA for more than a year. It wasn't Harry's fault that he had disappeared, but could she wait the rest of her life for someone to come back when she wasn't even sure he was still alive?

This was so much more difficult to decide than it had been when she became Harry's girlfriend. She didn't think he would ever leave her, and he had said he wouldn't ever go. But he had, and Hermione decided that she needed to get out and do something other than mope about and wait for her brave Gryffindor soldier. No, she would be happy for a while, and would find happiness with people. After all, she was 19, and 19 is much too young to be a widow or an old maid. There had been boys in her classes at Merlin Hall, the wizarding university in Oxford, who appeared to like her, but she had always been too afraid or too nervous to take any of the boys up on their offers of lunch or dinner. But now she was starting to get over Harry. She wasn't going to forget him, and she could still keep up hope, but she couldn't let it get in the way of any other happiness that might come her way.As she decided this, she pinned Ginny's postcard to a corkboard and walked back towards her room. But on her way, she heard the wizarding wireless in Ron's room, playing the Spellbound Boys full blast. Hermione peeped in to find Ron practicing his dance moves and singing into his wand. Hermione couldn't help but snort and Ron quickly put his wand behind his back, and then pulled it out again to turn off the wireless player. "Work?" Hermione giggled. "Right…" she said as she walked over to her own room.

***

Ginny was tired. It seemed as if she were always tired these days, but she kept telling herself that if she was going to be a real journalist, this was the way it was going to be. Besides, this was what Sunday mornings were for: sleeping late and having just a little bit of relaxation. And now that she was in Paris, everything seemed to have a different light about it, the buildings seemed to glow in the early morning, and everything turned pink by evening. It was possibly one of the most enchanting places she had visited, and few of the cities in the Americas compared. Sure, New York had a dazzling skyline and all the lights sparkled by themselves, while Santiago seemed to be like a bowl of stars as the sun set in the valley that contained the city, but nothing was like Paris. This was her third evening here, and already, she knew it would be hard to leave. 

Something about the city was intoxicating her; calling her to walk its streets every day and all night. She had gone through the Place de la Madeleine, the flower district, and had come out the other end to encounter a boulongerie and a café on one side of a square, a beautiful little oasis of color and life in the center of the city. Chance encounters like this in the city were what made her love it more than any other she had visited so far.

Normally the hostels that she stayed in were quite nice, like living in a dorm again, but the one that she was staying in this time, the Three Ducks, also had a pub connected to it of the same name. This had been one of the reasons that she had chosen it, because it would remind her of home, but now that she was staying there, she almost started to regret it. On her very first night in, she had been down in the commonroom and was just organizing her papers, and perhaps thinking about starting to read a book, when a group of drunken young men walked over from the pub. They were obviously smashed, and the room stank of beer. That had been what had driven Ginny to the streets, and she had barely been anywhere else. 

The money she was making from her freelance work with the Daily Prophet was pretty decent, and since they would cover her rooming costs, Ginny had quite a bit of pocket change. She had been saving it up for when she was here, and decided that the very first thing she would do was to buy. One of her roommates in the last hostel she stayed at in Spain had had a copy of _Vogue_, a magazine that Muggle women read, but Ginny had flipped through it and seen some of the most beautiful and interesting clothes she had ever seen. She had decided to make a trip to one of the designer shops and to also go to the branch of Gladrags here in Paris, which she heard had some more modern robe and cloak designs. For the first time, Ginny decided, she wasn't going to have to look poor. She wanted to walk down the street and have people think about how beautiful her clothes were. 

And so, this is how it came to be that Miss Virginia Weasley came to be walking in the fashion district, and was passing through the street, when suddenly she felt like she was being watched. She came to a sudden stop, and then looked behind her. To her right was another of the many cafes that seemed to dot the streets. Since it was getting colder, there were fewer customers sitting outside, but one, who sat by himself, surprised her greatly. A young man with floppy blonde hair sat at one of the outer tables and alternately sipped at his coffee and stared at her. It took Ginny a moment to realize who it was, because she was in France and didn't expect to see anyone she knew, but as soon as her expression changed to one of recognition, Draco didn't take his eyes off of her. 

The moment was awkward for them both. Ginny hadn't seen Draco since the night of the leaving feast nearly two years ago, although she had heard a few rumors. On their first day back at Hogwarts the year after, word went around that the Malfoys had lost nearly all of their wealth and power after Lucius had died and the Aurors had swept through their home, taking all the dark materials that were stored there. A few months later, everyone was saying how the Malfoys had moved out of the country so that they could stay with Narcissa's family, but nobody knew where it was. Apparently, 'where it was' was somewhere in France, because here was Draco, staring at Ginny from a café in the streets of Paris. 

They stared at each other for a moment more before Draco stood up. Then Ginny found herself walking towards him. When they were finally standing face to face, Ginny looked down, trying to find something to say, but instead found herself admiring Draco's shoes. She looked up, about to say something when he broke the silence. "Would you like to sit down?"

Ginny smiled, and nodded. As she sat, her voice finally came back. "I'm so glad it was actually you. Imagine if it had been some very strange French man staring at me. That would have been weird, wouldn't it?" She blurted this all out so fast that she was done speaking even before the waiter had a chance to come over and take her order. 

When the waiter had gone, she looked over towards Draco, only to have him smiling at her. "I wouldn't be surprised if men don't stare at you already," he put his hand on hers and said, "You're lovely." Ginny barely had time to blush before he added, "When did that happen?"

Ginny paused for a moment, confused, and then the waiter brought her café-au-lait. The cup clinked on to the saucer and the sound pushed Ginny over the edge. She broke down and began to cry into her hands. This sort of obvious display of emotion was foreign to Draco, who didn't know how to react or how to make her feel better. He put his hand on her shoulder, patting her awkwardly. When Ginny felt his arm, she automatically leant in and started to cry on his shirt. Draco pulled her to him more closely and started to stroke her hair, and then he did something that surprised even Ginny. Faint calming noises started to issue from his lips, and Ginny stopped crying for a moment to direct her eyes upwards. Draco looked down at her and then pushed her back into a normal sitting position. "You all right now? Because I don't want to ever have to do that in public again." He looked at her with concern for a moment without blinking. 

Ginny wiped away the tears, and said, "Yeah, I think I'm going to be fine. It's just that I've been alone for quite a bit now, and it's so difficult. I've met some very nice people, but it's still not the same. It's been nearly nine months that I've been gone and I miss everyone so much. I guess I didn't realize how lonely I've been." She wiped the tearstains off of her face, and smiled. "Promise to forget I ever did anything so silly as to cry in front of you?" 

Draco looked at her with consideration for a moment before saying, "Only if you let me take you out some night while you're here. You'd be surprised how boring it is living with a bunch of middle aged French women." Ginny laughed, and then thought of the strangeness of her laughing at something that Draco Malfoy had said. He looked at her hopefully and then said, "So you'll come?" She nodded and then wrote down the address of the hostel, leaving her room number, and as she left, she pecked him on the cheek, in the spirit of being on the Continent. He gave her a confused look and then appeared to be thinking and nodding, as if making it all make sense. Ginny laughed to herself and then started the walk back.

She had planned to spend the next day out on the streets finding witches and wizards to talk to, but she never quite got around to it. As she was about to leave the room, an owl glided in. Ginny was quite impressed, as it was an eagle owl of considerable size and sleekness. The owl held out itsleg, which held a letter, and continued to stare unblinkingly forward. Ginny thought this very strange, as most post owls seemed to be either very friendly, or in a great hurry. But she untied the letter and tried to pat the owl on its head, but it flew off before she had a chance.

More than slightly disturbed, she sat down with the letter and began to read, thinking that this was a reply from Hermione or Ron. Much to her surprise, it was a dinner invitation from Draco, or at least that's what she thought it was. It said, "I'm taking you out tonight, and I won't take no for an answer. Wear something extremely beautiful, I don't want to stand out." This last part distressed her a little, as she didn't have a whole lot to wear that was extremely beautiful. She wondered where he might take her that she would stand out if caught wearing something less than spectacular. She sighed aloud as she stood and walked to the door, thinking that the only thing she had to do was to go shopping. Of course none of the things she had bought on her last shopping trip were appropriate for…was this a date? Ginny shook the thought out of her head, and headed out. 

Wandering around in Paris, Ginny wasn't quite sure where to go with the little spending money she had left to find something gorgeous. She wandered in to a few shops and saw some nice things, and wandered right back out when she saw the prices. Luckily, one of the Muggle shops she walked into seemed to be the least expensive yet, and though there were many of the tacky trendy items reserved for young girls who didn't know exactly how to shop, there were a few very nice, pretty things. After about ten minutes, Ginny saw it. The dress that she knew would be perfect. It was black, with a single ruffle along the neck that became a strap. It was not tooshort, but not too prude either. She stood in line for what seemed like forever, just to try on the dress, but luckily, it fit perfectly. All the lines seemed fluid on her body, and the sheer black layers made her skin seem very pale and creamy. This was it. After paying for the dress, Ginny walked back to the hostel, and congratulated herself for being so clever, before going out and starting research for her next Daily Prophet article.

***

That evening passed entirely too quickly. Draco picked Ginny up at the hostel, and they were soon on their way. Ginny kept asking where he was taking her, but he wouldn't tell. But as they walked towards the main boulevard, Ginny knew it must be something important. And when she had finally felt she couldn't walk any longer, Draco led her into a large beautiful building. Inside was stunning. As she marveled at the wonderfulness of it all, she managed to breathe, "What is this place?"

Draco leaned in close, and said, "It's the Comedie-Francaise. Mother says it's the only place to hear the French language spoken well." He took her hand and they went to their seats. 

As they sat down in the private box, and the lights went down, Ginny whispered to Draco, "I can't believe I'm here. It's so beautiful." He looked back at her and smiled and then the play began. They both listened intently and Ginny was very glad that she had thought to learn the audio-translator spells before going abroad; they made evenings like this more enjoyable because she was able to appreciate what the actors were saying without having to learn French. She continued to watch the performance, but every once in a while, she could see out of the corner of her eye that Draco wasn't watching the show, but was watching her instead. The one time she moved her head to look back at him, he had quickly shifted his gaze back to the stage, leaving Ginny confused, a little embarrassed, and quite curious. As the show came to an end, she picked up her purse and shawl and turned to Draco. "Ready?" He nodded and they left the box.

They stepped outside the theater, Ginny walking close to Draco, and after a moment, he took her hand without flinching. Such a forward gesture was completely foreign to Ginny, and she looked down to see her own hand in his. She raised her glance to look at him, and then, without thinking, she heard herself say, "When did you get to be so nice?" Immediately after saying this, she stopped, and watched as Draco took one more step, then also stopped. He turned slowly, and then stared at her for a moment. His eyes seemed so soft, but the way he looked at her so intently made Ginny feel helpless. She shook her head a little and tried to question the pause with her eyes, but he looked away towards a side street. Before she knew what was happening, Ginny felt herself being pulled into an empty alley, and moved so that she was against a wall. 

Suddenly, Ginny felt scared. Perhaps all the things that Ron had ever said about Draco being a horrible person were right. Perhaps he had only taken her out so that he could lull her into a dreamy state and then he was going to do something terrible to her. Her mind moved faster and faster, but before she knew it, she felt his lips against hers. His kiss was urgent, and his hands were on her neck and running through her hair. And before she could feel anything else, Ginny felt herself returning the kiss, moving with equal force into his body and still feeling trapped. Suddenly he pulled away, and she could hear both of them breathing heavily.

"I've wanted to do that for about a year now. I thought I'd never see you again." His hands were slowly moving along her face and neck, and he brushed back her hair. "And I haven't changed, you just treat me like I am a person, and equal. Your brothers always treated me like scum, of course I was horrible back then. You make me feel like I'm worthwhile, and it's been a long time since I've felt likethat. Do you understand?" Ginny felt his hands against her face as she nodded, and then moved in to kiss him again.

When they finally emerged from the side street, Ginny was wearing his jacket, and Draco had his arm around her waist, holding her close to him. They walked slowly back to her hostel, where he kissed her softly once more, before he disappeared into the night, leaving behind a slightly starstruck Ginny who slowly and dreamily stumbled her way back to her room.

***

Hermione sat, waiting impatiently in her magimolecular-potions class. She had never really gotten used to the idea of making a schedule that was completely different from anyone else in her year, having spent her seven years at Hogwarts at least having her core classes with Ron, Harry, and the rest of the Gryffindors. She would often feel very alone, sitting in a different class and knowing that only a few of these people were in some of her other classes. As she sat, she decided to read ahead a few chapters, and as she did this, a few students slipped into the classroom, and a girl took a seat beside hers. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see the girl leaning over and reaching into her bookbag, which was sitting on the floor, but the thing that caught her attention was a head of beautiful golden curls. Hermione stopped reading and looked jealously at the perfect ringlets that were tight and beautiful, albeit very close to the girl's head. When the girl sat up, she sat straight and smiled at Hermione. The girl had a very nice smile, but otherwise she was very plain looking. 'Hullo. I'm Iseult Rowan. You're in my advanced theoretical Arithmancy class, aren't you?"

Hermione hesitated, and stuck out her hand, nervous that this girl had only recognized her for being Hermione Granger, friend of Harry, girlfriend of the fallen, but she was soon won over by the bright smile, and the face that didn't seem capable of being mean. "Yeah, I think I am in your class Iseult. I'm Hermione Granger." She waited for the awkward pause that usually followed with the recognition, but it didn't come. Instead, Iseult kept talking, going on about their professor and the homework that would be due for next class. When she slowed down for a moment, Hermione found a chance to interrupt. "You have the most gorgeous hair," she said, her voice full of envy and admiration.

Iseult smiled and blushed a little bit. "Well…it used to be longer, but it was just so frustrating, and I felt I couldn't deal with it any longer. It's a lot easier to manage this way." At that moment the professor walked in, and everyone got very quiet as the lesson started. Every once in a while, Hermione would look over at Iseult, who would look back at her and smile. It was one of the most enjoyable classes that Hermione could remember, not just because the lesson material was interesting, but because there was someone there who seemed to enjoy learning about everything as much as she did. That was one of the few faults she found in her friendships with Harry and Ron. She had always hoped that maybe they would not goof off in class, and afterwards they could all sit around and discuss the interesting things they had just learned, and perhaps find practical applications for all of it. Instead, the boys had wanted to break rules in order to figure out whatever the current mystery was at Hogwarts. Luckily, Hermione could usually find a way to apply things they had learned in the breaking of the rules, and therefore felt it was more of a learning experience because of it. But now, it seemed like she might actually have one of those friends who would discuss school with her. And it was a girl. 

Soon, the class began to wrap up, and as Hermione began to put her notes into her bookbag, she stood up, and found herself face to face with Iseult. "Would you like to go and get some coffee, or if you're done with classes, I know this great little pub, and we could have a butterbeer?" Her face was so hopeful, and Hermione didn't have any more classes that day. Besides, she had always wanted a girlfriend, someone to really talk to about important things. Parvati and Lavender had almost been like that, but now Parvati was dead, and Lavender was off having a crisis because of Seamus. Why not?

Hermione smiled at Iseult and said, "Are you free now?" A few moments later they were in the wizarding section of the covered market, at a pub that Hermione had never bothered to notice. It was fairly dirty, possibly even more so than the Leaky Cauldron, but it had a very nice atmosphere. They found that they had a great deal in common, and the conversation was never lacking. Hermione discovered that Iseult was concentrating in Arithmancy, which was interesting for Hermione who had taken Arithmancy all through Hogwarts, but had decided to study theoretical magic at Merlin. Iseult had been home-schooled of sorts, with a group of other young witches and wizards from magical families who didn't want to send their children to Hogwarts. Hermione found herself sharing things about herself, and feeling a wondrous rush at learning so much about a person in so little time. At one point, Hermione even screwed up some of her Gryffindor courage and said, "So, did you know who I was when you first sat down?"

Iseult squirmed a little in her chair a little bit before finally saying, "I'd heard you were here. Everyone knew that, and I thought that I might like to meet you. But this morning I didn't know it was you until you introduced yourself. You should congratulate yourself on being able to blend in with the rest of the student population so well." She smiled weakly, and then continued, "But you're a lot nicer than I thought, much less snobbish. I'm so glad that we might be able to be friends." 

The last part was almost a question, so Hermione smiled and said. "You know, I've never really had a good girlfriend, so I'm glad that we met too. And I haven't had a lot of friends since I've come here either. I've spent most of my free time with Ron at home or studying." Iseult gasped a little, and then looked shocked at having done that in front of Hermione.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I'd read in one of the papers that you were living with him, but I just didn't think it could be true. I thought it was something that Witch Weekly made up just because you weren't with Harry anymo…" Iseult stopped. "I shouldn't have said that. Let's talk about something else, ok?" Hermione nodded, very happy to avoid talking about Harry with someone she had only just met. After that, the conversation moved smoothly, and soon their tankards were empty. 

Hermione felt awkward again and scrounged for something else to talk about. "Have you got a boyfriend?" She knew this was a good question to ask as soon as she saw Iseult's face; it was flushed, but she was smiling and biting her lip.

"Well, I think I might," she said quickly. 

Hermione was genuinely excited. "What do you mean that you _might_ have a boyfriend? You've either got one or you haven't!"

Iseult smiled again and said, "Well, I was at a party, and everyone had been dancing and drinking and laughing, and he, well…his name is…oh it sounds so silly! His name is Wendt. But we, well, he…he kissed me. And maybe it was because we were both a little drunk, but it was nice, and the other day, he sent me an owl to see how I was doing. So," she said brightly, "that's how it's maybe." She smiled again, even wider, and then took a last sip of her drink, and then set down her tankard, and looked over at Hermione. "So…you. How's your man?" she said completely nonchalantly. 

Hermione felt herself redden and pale at the same time. "Well," she murmured, "I don't know exactly. It's all very confusing, and I'm trying to figure out exactly what's happening. And I don't even know if he's had a chance to think about it." She paused, and finished her drink, and looked at the bottom of her tankard as she said, "I just wish I could see him again." She looked up from her drink and saw Iseult giving her a confused look. They both sat there in silence for a moment.

"I meant Ron, and for a moment there, I thought you meant Ron too." Iseult finally said. 

Hermione was startled. "But Harry is my boyfriend, or, he was my boyfriend." 

Iseult leaned in, "But you haven't seen him for nearly two years, and you're living with a man who from what you've said is obviously in love with you, and yet you hang on to someone who might not come back."

Hermione sat quietly back in her stool, shocked to hear someone say out loud for the first time what she had secretly been thinking and feeling all along. She finally found herself saying quietly, almost to herself, "You know, I really hadn't ever thought of Ron like that." She paused. "What do you mean he's obviously in love with me?"

***

Ron and Hermione sat down to dinner that night, not having much to say and generally avoiding conversation. They ate slowly, staring down at their food until Hermione couldn't stand the silence anymore. 

"So I made a new friend today. Her name's Iseult, and she's just so very honest about everything." Ron looked up, and Hermione continued. "We went and had a drink after class, and it was quite funny because she'd got the idea somewhere that we were going out, and she wasn't afraid to tell me to my face." His face didn't change, so she looked back down at her food and pushed it around on her plate a little more. 

Ron continued to look at her, finally saying, "What did you tell her?"

She bit her lip and said, "Well, it wasn't really in that context." He gave her a look. "She asked me how my boyfriend was, and she meant you, and I thought she meant Harry." Her voice trailed off. She looked up in time to see his face fall slightly. This isn't going well, she thought, but I've got to tell him. "We talked some more, and she said something about how I should be moving on at this point." She took another deep breath. "And I agree with her." 

There was a long pause where Ron looked away. "Why are you listening to someone tell you what to do when you haven't even known her a day? But other than that, you're ready to move on? And not just because other people are telling you to?" Hermione took a deep breath and cleared her mind. This had been one of the things she wasn't quite sure of. She stared blankly at the table, and as she did this, Ron stood up. "You're not ready yet, and even though…Yes, I do want to be with you, I don't think you're ready, and I can't be with you until then." He began to clear his plate, and Hermione paused a half second before going to Ron and smashing her lips against his. For a moment it was awkward because Hermione was a little out of practice, and Ron was still holding his plate. 

But slowly they both settled in, Ron dropped the plate and moved his hands to her waist. Her hands, which had been clamped to his face, slowly moved across his cheeks, and then behind his neck, finally resting her arms on his shoulders and running her arms through his cropped hair. 

Slowly, like breathing out, they came apart. Ron pulled her closer and they stood quietly, foreheads pressed together when Ron said, "Well, maybe you're ready."

End Chapter


End file.
